


Once in twenty lifetimes

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Could Have... Should Have... Actually... [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Meetings, And it isn’t a heartbreak for them so, Could Have / Should Have / Actually, F/M, M/M, Other ways the story could have gone, POV Patrick Brewer, but hopefully the other two are a palate cleanser, more of a ‘what could have been’, the ‘could have’ section is not a HEA for our boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: Patrick Brewer meeting David Rose:Itcould havehappened on a road trip with his wifeItshould havehappened long after Patrick realised he was gayItactuallyhappened after he broke up with his fiancée for the final time
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Original Character(s), Patrick Brewer/Rachel
Series: Could Have... Should Have... Actually... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849789
Comments: 34
Kudos: 166





	Once in twenty lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> There's this post that goes around Tumblr from time to time which introduced me to this concept, which I love and am planning on turning into a collection.  
> The general gist of it is: _How about a new fic genre, in the spirit of five times fics, with the premise:  
>  It could have happened like this...  
> It should have happened like this...  
> It actually happened like this..._
> 
> So here is my first swing at that.
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

Patrick Brewer marries Rachel Anderson on a Saturday afternoon in September. 

When he wakes up it’s overcast and miserable, but the sun bursts through the clouds at lunchtime so that when they walk out of the church arm in arm the sunlight bounces off her hair, a little less radiant than her smile, and Patrick lets himself hope it’s a sign of what he can expect going forward; that all his doubts and worries and self-recrimination will fade away like the earlier threat of rain.

They settle into married life. It’s not like it’s that different, really; a piece of paper and a different last name for Rachel, that’s all. They keep the same routine, still bicker over the best way to load the dishwasher and watch terrible shows on each others’ Interflix profiles to skew the recommendations. Maybe their sex life slows down a bit, but that’s to be expected; maybe their arguments drag on a little longer, but that’s because before they’d just blow up and break up instead of letting it fester and eventually working it through.

For their one year anniversary, they take a couple of weeks off work and they set out on a road trip. Rachel buys an actual, printed map and marks off the cheesiest, most ridiculous roadside attractions she can find: the 35-foot tall snowman, the large pencil (not even the largest, just… large), the giant $2 coin, the world’s largest golf bag. They blast 80s music and take silly selfies at every stop; they stay in cheap roadside motels and eat at diners that haven’t updated their decor since the seventies. 

They have fun.

Schitt’s Creek wasn’t one of their planned stops but when Rachel bursts out laughing and Patrick looks up to see what is without a doubt the most incestuous town sign he’s ever seen, he pulls off the road. They take a few photos of the sign, then Rachel gets him to stand under it while she snaps a few pictures before they swap. Then they realise they can set the phone on the bonnet of the car and use the timer to get them both in the shot and they mimic the sign’s pose, both laughing so hard they can barely breathe.

It’s close enough to lunchtime that they decide to continue into town and stop there for a bite. It’s a real one-horse town, with only one café that they can see, so they get to avoid the discussion of where to eat that more often than not turns into them sniping at each other. They wind up sharing a plate of moderately edible mozzarella sticks before tucking into a decent chicken noodle soup (Patrick) and slightly sad-looking Caesar salad (Rachel). As they’re finishing up Rachel says she needs to go to the bathroom, so Patrick leaves her to settle the bill and wanders outside to wait for her.

There are only a few other shops along the main road but one in particular catches Patrick’s eye, just across the street. It’s a charming little brick building with fruit and vegetables outside and  _ Rose Apothecary _ emblazoned across the door; Patrick finds himself crossing the road almost before he realises, figuring Rachel will be able to find him easily enough. 

A bell chimes as he steps through the door and two people turn to look at him: a tall, dark-haired man behind the counter and a willowy blonde woman leaning over the front of it, almost nose to nose with him. They both look like they stepped out of a magazine; an article on provincial towns featuring models who flew in and out of them on a private jet, maybe. Not the sort of people he’d expect to see in a town like Schitt’s Creek. Then again, this store is certainly more upscale than he would have expected — a little more suited to this striking pair than, say, the café he just walked out of.

“Hi, welcome to Rose Apothecary,” the man says tightly. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Just looking, thanks,” he replies, wandering over to the wall opposite the counter and picking up bottles almost at random. He soon realises the store is rebranding local products and crafts under their umbrella, which is the kind of off-the-wall idea that would really flourish in a small town with a sense of community. He’s trying not to overhear the conversation going on behind him but neither of them are trying to modulate their voices; he doesn’t know any of the people or situations they’re talking about but he recognises the way they needle each other, trading barbs with a practised ease that speaks to having known each other a long time.

He’s very, very familiar with that.

Eventually, there’s a huff and an “Ugh, fine, David!” before the woman leaves, the cheeriness of the bell somewhat mitigated by how hard she pulls the door closed behind her. When Patrick turns around, a jar of body milk in his hand (shouldn’t that be refrigerated?) the man — David, he’s assuming from the woman’s parting comment — is looking apologetically at him.

“Sorry about that,” he starts, and Patrick waves him off.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he says. After a slight pause, he adds, “Honestly, my wife and I are like that too.”

David blinks before his whole face contorts into a grimace. “Um, well that’s… that’s actually my sister. So.”

Patrick fights very hard to keep a straight face. “My mistake,” he says. “The town sign must have confused me.”

David stares at him and Patrick stares back, determined not to blink first.

There’s a flicker at one corner of David’s lips and Patrick watches as that flicker becomes a full-blown smirk, before David tries unsuccessfully to tuck it behind his teeth. Only then does Patrick let his grin burst free and before he knows it they’re both laughing, David almost doubled over the counter as if he needs it to brace himself. Neither of them hear the bell sounding above the sound of their shared joke. 

“What did I miss?” comes Rachel’s voice from the doorway, making Patrick start. She’s holding two takeaways cups and has a puzzled little smile on her face as her gaze flits between them, standing on opposite sides of the store. 

David gestures to him. “This— um,” he starts, gesturing towards Patrick before faltering. 

“Patrick,” he offers, guessing at his hesitance. “This is my wife, Rachel.”

“Ah,” David replies. “Well, I hear the two of you were treated to our delightful welcome sign.”

Rachel’s face clears in understanding as she hands Patrick his tea. 

“Ready to go?” he asks her but she hesitates, glancing around the store. 

“Actually,” she says to David, “you don’t happen to sell pregnancy tests here, do you?”

* * *

In the next five years Patrick and Rachel have two boys and a girl, all with curly red hair and their mom’s sense of humour and their dad’s quick wit. Patrick goes to work and comes home and kisses his wife and reads to his children; he coaches Little League and plays baseball and can sometimes be persuaded to pull out his guitar at a barbecue. And if they fight more than he remembers his parents fighting, if something sometimes feels like it doesn’t quite fit… well, part of being an adult is realising that life isn’t a fairytale.

Occasionally, he casts his mind back to a little shop in an unfortunately-named town in southern Ontario, and the business owner who looked incredibly out of place and yet somehow right at home. In another life, he thinks, he could have been happy doing something like that; bringing a unique business idea to fruition, settling down in a town so small everyone just knew everything about you. The kind of town where, maybe, you would have the space to find yourself.

But that’s not this life. This is the life Patrick always thought he’d have. 

It’s enough.   
  


Patrick Brewer is fifteen when he realises the way he feels about girls is not the way his friends feel about girls. When he kisses Rachel Anderson during a game of spin the bottle at Steve’s house he doesn’t feel tingly or excited or horny; he just feels uncomfortable, and can’t stop focusing on how wet his lips are. 

His aunts and uncles say things like “late bloomer” but that summer he meets Jason MacIntyre while playing baseball and starts following him around as though bound by an invisible tether. He finds himself showing off during games trying to get Jason’s attention, a smile, a hug. 

“You talk about Jason a lot,” his mom says carefully, but Patrick doesn’t hear the question she doesn’t know how to ask. 

Two days before school goes back, Jason MacIntyre leans forward shyly and kisses him in the dugout, and Patrick sees stars. 

He tells his parents two weeks later, after worrying himself sick, but they just hug him and tell him that they love him no matter what. They invite Jason around for dinner and it’s no different to having his friends over, except that when they go up to his room his mom asks him to leave the door open. 

They date for a year, awkwardly stumbling through a series of firsts as time and privacy allows. The final milestone Patrick meets with Jason MacIntyre is his first heartbreak, when Jason tells him on the last day of school that he’s going to the States for the summer. 

He doesn’t date anyone else in high school. Throughout university he has a couple of reasonably long-term relationships and several shorter ones; he joins and later becomes president of the campus LGBT group. 

He’s in grad school when he meets Brett Edwards. It’s something straight out of a romantic comedy; they run into each other outside a coffee shop and Patrick accidentally spills tea all down Brett’s shirt. He’s mortified, offers to pay for dry cleaning, and Brett says: “What if you let me take you out to dinner instead?”

They have three incredible years together, which would be lovely except that the relationship lasts for four. The worst part of their relationship falling apart is that it’s no one’s fault; nobody cheats, or gets violent, or joins a cult. They love each other, but the people they each grow into as they move through their twenties are fundamentally incompatible in a way that their younger selves weren’t. They try for so long to hold onto what they had that they barely remember what they’re fighting for; by the time the relationship finally ends, not with a bang but with a whimper, all Patrick can feel is abject relief. 

He needs a change of scenery, needs to get out of the city and live a slower pace for a little while. 

He starts looking at job ads online. 

* * *

When David Rose walks into Ray’s with an eye-catching sweater and a face that reveals everything he’s thinking, Patrick recognises what he’s feeling as attraction immediately. 

When David leaves a series of long, rambling voicemails on his phone that Patrick listens to several times to piece together his business model and then once or twice after the incorporation paperwork is filled out, he realises it might be something more. 

When Rose Apothecary’s business license arrives Patrick gets it framed before taking it to the store to give to David in person. He hands it over and then, determinedly barreling past David’s obvious disapproval of his aesthetic choices, asks him out on a date. 

They get a booth at Café Tropical, make jokes about the dinner crowds and toast each other with mozzarella sticks. The usual first date conversation topics quickly fall by the wayside in favour of talking about the store and Patrick soon finds himself going into work mode, talking about grants that David could apply for. He’s wracking his brain thinking about what else the Ontario Small Business Association offers when he notices David’s face has fallen a little. 

“Is this— um,” David starts before clearing his throat. “Is this a… business dinner, then?”

Patrick realises his mistake immediately and feels like an idiot. “No!” he almost shouts, and David’s eyebrows shoot up. “No,” he says at a more reasonable volume. “God, sorry. I just got caught up. This is definitely a date.”

David’s smile lights up his face. “Oh, good,” he says. Then his voice takes on a teasing tone. “So it’s a date where you… offer to give me money.”

Patrick groans, dropping his head onto the — concerningly sticky, actually — tabletop. “I usually have more game than this,” he mutters, his voice muffled. 

“Well,” David says, his tone full of promise, “I look forward to seeing it.”

* * *

Eighteen months later when he calls his parents and says  _ I’m going to propose to David, _ his mother actually laughs at him. 

“Sweetheart,” she says, “I’ve been waiting for this call since I saw the way you looked at each other at the store opening.”

Patrick Brewer has to either break up with Rachel Anderson for good, or marry her. For both their sakes. 

He chooses the former and, to solidify the ‘for good’ part in his own mind, moves 3000 kilometres away. 

He finds himself in Schitt’s Creek and meets a man with huge, expressive hands and too many sweaters and a fantastic business idea, once he actually manages to articulate it. They go into business together, and Patrick goes on a lot of dawn hikes and does a lot of soul searching before he finally understands why he feels this gravitational pull towards David. 

He’s wasted so much time, not figuring this out sooner. 

Patrick sits on his feelings for weeks, because why would someone as vibrant and artistic and charismatic as David Rose look twice at someone like Patrick? But the night of the store opening there’s a hug that lasts far too long and Patrick lets himself hope. 

In the end, their first date starts with disaster and ends with a perfect, life-altering first kiss. Patrick wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
